Seven Ancient Wonders - Matthew Reilly [90]
‘Cult of Amun-Ra,’ Wizard said flatly, striding past the towering stone needle.
Zoe turned as she walked, gazing up at this Egyptian structure taking pride of place in front of the biggest Catholic church in the world.
She shrugged. ‘The Cult of Amun-Ra. . . ’
They entered the Basilica.
Few man-made structures on earth can match St Peter’s Basilica for sheer scale. It is shaped like a giant crucifix—just like the centre of Paris—and its famous dome soars 300 feet above a glistening marble floor. Brilliant shafts of sunlight penetrate its impossibly high windows, as if sent by God himself.
Michelangelo’s Pieta flanks one side of the main entrance. Giant statues of saints stand in alcoves lining the main hall—St Ignatius, St Francis of Assisi—looming over the faithful.
It is designed to inspire awe.
But the most spectacular section of the great cathedral is to be found at its most holy place, the junction of the cross.
Here you will find the altar of St Peter’s, covered by a colossal four-pillared awning made of sturdy iron laced with gold. At the top of each tree-trunk-like pillar, you will find angels leaning outward, blowing trumpets, praising the Lord.
And beneath this awning is the altar.
‘It looks so plain,’ Fuzzy said, gazing up at it.
He was right. The altar of St Peter’s is remarkably plain, just a large oblong block of marble mounted on a raised platform. At the moment, since it wasn’t being used, it was covered by a simple red-white-and-gold cloth and some candles. A thick rope suspended from brass poles prevented the public from surmounting it.
‘Yes,’ Wizard said. ‘Considering its importance, it is very plain.’
‘It’s only important if Zaeed was telling us the truth,’ Zoe commented.
Before they had all split up on their separate missions, Zaeed had explained that the Artemis Piece of the Golden Capstone lay embedded in the altar at St Peter’s Basilica. The trapezoid, he claimed, had been incorporated face-down in the otherwise solid marble altar— so that its base lay flush with the flat upper surface of the altar. To the uninitiated, it would just look like a square plate of gold on the flat surface, a square plate with a crystal in its centre.
To the initiated, however, it would mean much more.
Wizard stared at the altar. ‘I imagine that only a handful of cardinals have ever been allowed to gaze upon the naked surface of this altar. Fewer still would know the true nature of the golden trapezoid embedded in it. All would be very senior, privileged initiates into the true history of the Church.’
‘So what do we do?’ Zoe asked. ‘We can’t just pull out a crowbar and prise the trapezoid from the altar in front of all these people.’
‘I only need to look at it,’ Wizard said. ‘To memorise the inscription if I can.’
They were surrounded by tourists and uniformed Swiss Guards—and, Wizard guessed, many plainclothed guards, ready to grab anyone who tried to step onto the altar.
Anyone except maybe a doddery old Orthodox priest.
‘Run me some interference,’ Wizard said. ‘Here I go.’
He moved quickly, gazing adoringly up at the awning above the altar, stepping close to the rope, seemingly rapt with wonder.
Then before anyone could stop him, Wizard stepped over the rope and up the steps. . .
. . . and stood behind the altar of St Peter’s, running his hands across the flat surface of the big oblong block as if it were made of some holy substance itself.
Plainclothed Swiss Guards appeared at once, emerging from the crowds, converging on the altar.
Standing behind the great oblong block in the exact heart of the Basilica, Wizard swept aside the cloth that covered the altar and beheld its bare upper surface.
What he saw was dazzling.
The flat surface of the altar was made of exquisite white marble, except in its very middle. Here Wizard saw, flush with the flat marble surface, a square-shaped section made of gold.
It was medium-sized, perhaps three feet to each side. And you couldn’t tell it was a golden trapezoid, since only its base side was visible.